One Bad Party
by MadTypewriter
Summary: Joan has convinced Sherlock to host a summer party with her for all their friends, colleagues and fellow ex drug takers. Just to have a break. A very much needed break. Needless to say, it kinda turns into an utter nightmare. With crimes to be solved, Clyde's 'nettle and dandelion' snacks on the table, an unconcious man on the sofa, they have their hands full!
1. Chapter 1

"This _was_ a good idea" Joan told herself while taking out some muffins from the oven that looked unsettlingly 'coal like' . She would _not_ admit that her idea might had been... really bad. The only way she convinced Sherlock of hosting this with her was asking, how many slightly crazed ex-drug addicts would be invited to summer party?

Of course, not all of Sherlock's fellow ex drug addicts were crazed, and they were also inviting other friends and colleagues as well, but that's what convinced him. Plus they needed a break - just a realxing and doing something non 'serial-killer-about-to-destroy-half-of-human-population' kind of thing. "Yes. This will be _great_." She told herself, though with a bit too much of sterness and utter determination for it to sound legit.

She walked through from the kitchen to see how Sherlock was getting on cleaning and preparing the rooms, "STOP!" A voice shouted out to her as she was about to step onto... what was that?

"Please tell me that's not a brain... ON THE CARPET!?"

"Ahh Watson - I'm glad you are still familiar with human body parts" Sherlock said sarcastially, "Actually, you'll be glad to know, I was just finishing this experiment so I could clear it away so not to scare our guests." Joan wasn't buying it. "You could have put it in your room - where we're putting all your other experiments." She lifted an eyebrow,

"Okay, I confess, I was having a quick break." "Sherlock!" She said exasperatedly "I've just been slaving in the kitchen while you've been doing absolutely nothing!." Sherlock looked indignant, _"_ Excuse _me_ , but I have cleaned till my fingers have alomst bled! I've just spent the last hour _vacuuming!_ Which personally, I think is the biggest watse of time seen to man. But if you don't mind, I must get back to this experiment, don't worry it'll only take a minute!" However by the time he'd finished saying that she had already rolled her eyes with emphasis and left the room to quickly go get the pigs in blankets out the oven.

However, on her way there the doorbell went and who other was there than, (Slightly ironically) Marcus Bell. Seeing Joan's terrified face of 'Oh no - We gave him the wrong time' he quickly said, "Don't worry, I know I'm early - I just thought you guys would need a hand." She was about to thank him but deny it when the fire alarm went off...

"Okay, with you and me" She told him quickly before running to get her prescious pigs and blankets, "and, well, maybe Sherlock, we can do this."


	2. Chapter 2

p class="MsoNormal"Everything other than the muffins and pigs in blankets were fine. And not burnt. Or at least edible./p  
p class="MsoNormal"When people started arriving in the afternoon they were prepared – or as prepared as they'd ever be./p  
p class="MsoNormal"Joan was just about to start relaxing, 'this was, actually, going to be fun-' But before she'd finished thinking that and offering a tray of snacks to someone Marcus had signalled her to a corner with a worried expression, she walked up to him with a questioning look./p  
p class="MsoNormal""Sherlock," Bell told her quickly, "Just told me that he recognised some snack I'd put on the table…" "And? What's that got to do with anything"She asked, confused, "good for him, he knows what a dorito looks like." "No," Marcus said, rubbing his forehead, "He recognises it causes it's dandelion and nettle flavoured... it's emClyde's/em. He's there distractiong people from it while one of us take it away-"/p  
p class="MsoNormal""So why on emearth/em haven't you taken it away yet!?"/p  
p class="MsoNormal""Becauses" He whispered, in a even quieter voice, "There's a crazy old lady, trying to help you out by waiting on people... and is offering it to people, I asked if I could help her out by taking it off her (which I would have immedietly taken away to the kitchen or somewhere) and she gave me a filthy look and told me she was quite capable of 'carrying a light tray' "/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Despite the awful situation Joan couldn't stop a smile from flooding her face, "It's emnot/em funny" Marcus said, annoyed while practically wiping sweat from his brow, "You're not the one who mistook a emtortoise's/em snack for some fancy biscuits!" "Okay" Joan said, looking around for the 'crazy old' culprit, and findng it she said, "Oh! It's Linda, our neighbour. Don't worry - she's lovely. I've emgot/em to go check the paddling pool on the roof, and check that the fence is okay that no one can fall off it, but just tell her I need to add something to the tray and I am sure she'll hand it over."/p  
p class="MsoNormal"Turns out.. she didn't. And, unbeknown to Joan while she was on the roof, checking everyone was having a good time and having a good time herself, Marcus was having a 'tug of war'... 'Linda' finally gave way, her grip slipping. Bell, not expecting it wasn't prepared, and Clyde's dandelion and nettle crunchies went flying... /p  
p class="MsoNormal" /p  
p class="MsoNormal" /p  
p class="MsoNormal" /p 


	3. Chapter 3

Joan came down to find Marcus, Sherlock, Captain Gregson, his fiancee and Linda picking up dandelion buiscuits, and immedietly guessed what had happened. Sherlock walked over to imformed her of it, and was surprised when she finished his sentance with complete accuracy, "How did you know?" He asked, "Please - it's obvious," She looked at him, annoyed that he hadn't guessed that she had guessed, "the fact that there's Clyde's food on the floor to begin with doesn't install me with confidence that everything is going okay, then, judging by Linda's pink cheeks of having done some unexpected excercise and Marcus's very much brighter cheeks plus that he's not making eye contact... - like I said, Please, it's obvious" Sherlock smiled, shrugged, then, as the doorbell went off again, he quickly walked off.

Joan walked up to Marcus, who finally made eye contact, like a teenager standing infront of the headmistress, not sure where to put his akwardly long hands, and not certain whether she know they've done something wrong. He started to confess but she cut him off, "It's okay Marcus - seriously, don't stress, I'll go tell Linda the truth and she'll be mortified. Trust me; I can bet that in _five_ minutes she'll be over apologising and in _ten.._ She'll come and tell me that you're the nicest guy she's ever met." Bell looked up at her, not bothering to hide his dubiousness and then proceeding to say, "I'm _so_ sorry. I-" But she'd cut him off (Again) from explaining, then gave him a smile and said, "In ten minutes you'll owe me five dollars" And strutted off in her high heels.

Sherlock had just welcomed Joan's mom into the party - she'd come especially for it, and was looking impeccable. He realised that despite his 'apprehension' (More like his point blank refusal) at the begining this was actually going well. He surveved the scene, with bright lanterns hung up everywhere, bunting not very 'artistically placed' by Bell but it added to the whole atmosphere, a punch bowl fit for a baby to have a bath in it, everyone chatting and just having a _good_ time. No this was nicer than 'well', though it wasn't his idea of fun, he was actually enjoying himself, which he hadn't expected. Ever. It was then that he felt the first drip.

Then another.

And another.

He looked up at the ceiling, confused, and walked up the stairs. It was on the second floor that he realised what happened and quickly ran to the balcony to confirm.

Yes, he was right. But NO, he hoped he was wrong. Finishing the last few steps he found out he was right - Someone had popped the paddling pool, and it was flooding down the stairs, drip by drip. the whole patio was wet but the majority had just flooded down the opening, onto the rest of the house. "Who did this?" Sherlock asked, looking round the group of teenages and adults, dripping in their bikinis and swimming trunks, none to happy to tell. "Jemma," He asked the closest girl next to him, "Who did this?!" "Er, It was kinda Frank, though J-" "It was NOT" interupted obviously 'Frank', "It was definetly Stacey-" "No WAY" butted in 'Stacey' "I think it was-" "Stop." Sherlock said, thinking, "This could go on forever, leave this to me." And with a smile he realised he could even solve a crime at this party.


End file.
